Why Robin? Why?

Once in a while a complete stranger dies, and something shocking occurs within me.  I feel loss.  Not just the sadness of human life being lost, but indeed personal loss.  I will miss this stranger.  I felt it when Phillip Seymour Hoffman died, and now again today I feel it as the news rings of Robin Williams taking his own life.  I feel small bits of what those who actually knew him must feel times a million.  I feel loss.  Part of me wants to count it as silly.  I can hear other, more cynical voices making fun of me.  My mind produces made up comments from this mysterious “them” about how stupid it is, or celebrity worship blah blah blah.  Only, anyone who knows me knows that I am not one to worship celebrity.  And so it is that I find myself, with age, letting my heart just feel what it feels, and not letting the stupidity of cynicism quash my feelings.  After a decade and a half of depression crushing my heart I’ll take whatever feelings I can get.  So, again, I feel loss.  I feel angry too, angry that Robin Williams quit.  I know the pain of severe depression.  It soaked my life, and stole my heart and soul, and tortured me every second of every day.  I have been well now for a couple of years, and yet I still battle the aftershocks, the thoughts, lies that a mind twisted by pain have come to believe.  Often, God reaches for me with love and tenderness but I recoil as a dog who was beaten one too many times to even stop and think that the outreaching could be anything other than more pain.  I know the pain, but I am still here.  

 

Why, Robin?  Why?  People love you.  Depression, statistically, ends.  It is almost certain to cease.  Just keep going.  Now it is too late.  We cannot reach you anymore.  If only you could see the world’s reaction, their sadness.  

How many follow the same pattern and yet have no one or very few to lament them? Robin Williams death has brought back to my heart the desire to reach out to my brothers and sisters who are hurting.  I have believed too many lies.  Lies that no one cares, or that such a thing means I should I stop trying.  So what if no one cares.  You don’t fight the fights you can win.  You fight the fights that need fighting, and this is a fight for the ages, for you see depression is not rare.  It will touch every life, whether they know it or not.  Unless you don’t love anyone, and you never struggle, it WILL touch your life, knowingly or not. 

The thought I keep having when I think about Robin Williams is, “Do people STILL think depression is NOT real?  Do they now get the reality of depression?  Do they think Robin violently choked the life out of himself for no good reason?  For something he just made up?  Can they still think it?”  

I hope not.  If anything good can come out of this pile of crap news, this darkness, I hope it is that more hearts will change, that people who once held the belief that those who were depressed were just weak or needed to just get over it and think happy thoughts will be stopped dead in their tracks and finally see that this darkness is real and is not a decision.  Taking of life is a decision.  The darkness is not.  

I think of how there is this trick to parenting when it comes to how much you shelter your children.  Some parents take every measure to hide their children’s eyes and minds to the world.  They think they are doing them a favor.  The problem is that sheltering one day cracks, for you cannot hide the reality of the other side of life forever.  That perfect childhood becomes the very weapon of destruction as an adult, for that mind is not prepared.  The world changes, cracks, as to where the mind of a child who was raised with measures of reality adapts to the realities of life slowly, incrementally, and healthily.  Their understanding of reality develops as they do, as opposed to bashing them over the head one day.  The sheltered mind must one day be wrecked and start over, and painfully.  Some simply refuse to accept this new world.  They opt out.  

So it is with depression.  I get it.  It is not something we want to be believe.  How can it be that so many people bear the burden of this inner darkness?  How can it be that the human race struggles so?  That at any moment any of us can fall into it?  It is terrifying, and much easier to just not believe it or not think about it.  Yet, it is only easier until reality comes crashing.  The darkness of depression hits us, our parents, our children, siblings, friends, someone, and our world shatters.  If only we had believed, developed as we went, we would be so much stronger, prepared for the darkness.  Still, most choose to plug their ears and chime, “La la la la,” until depression yanks their fingers out of their ears, slaps them in the face, and yanks their heart of their chest.  Sometimes it is too late, and we lose people.  It is their fault, yes.  They take their own lives, but could we as individuals or a society be more open and prepared?  Yes.  We can start with the simple admission to ourselves that the darkness of depression is real, and it is not simply wished away.  We can steady our hearts for the possibility of battling that darkness for ourselves or someone we love, and pray like mad that such hell passes us by.  No, foolish or not, we swing for the moon and pray that darkness goes straight where it came from, hell. 

Depression, Emotion, and Reason

There's much to talk about when talking about depression.  Sometimes it feels overwhelming.  I get to thinking that I might forget something.  Something important.  Something that'll make a difference.

Yet, in the end, though there's quite a bit to cover, most of it is just extra.  There are some things that are the core of the fight.  They're the things that make or break you.

Hear me now.  I'm going to share with you one thing that really can change the battle, and not just for depression.  The truth works for anyone any time.

Your feelings DO NOT always tell the truth.

That's it.  Sounds simple enough, but with that in mind I think you will start to see just how often it is you let your feelings, how often I let my feelings, dictate how we think.  That's why I don't even like to say the adage, "Well, you can't control other people, but you can only control yourself."

Nope.  I can even do that, at least not a hundred percent.  If so, I'd be the happiest man alive.  Truth is, feelings are bigger than we think in rational process.  Start talking to someone with an opposing worldview.  If you know your stuff well enough to decently defend your view, there will come a point where that other person will throw out the "I just" clause.  It's where all actual reasoning has played itself out, and taken you or them so far, but not to the end.  Faith is inevitable.  And that point, when reached, is when we all say, "Well, that may be so but I JUST cant believe that... or I just have to believe that... and the following is filled in with what was wrought from emotion, not pure reason.

Everybody struggles with this.  I do all the time.  Only, most of the time, feelings follow enough of a pattern that corresponds with the circumstances of life, that it is easier to trust them (and also to be deceived by them).

This is why depression is so dangerous.  Thing is, in depression, your feelings stop corresponding with life.  Your feelings don't corresponding, seemingly, with anything.  Feels like satan himself has your brain in his hands and he's squeezing the living daylights out of it.

It is here where we are really challenged to ask ourselves... just what are we to do with our emotions?  Because, it feels like all hope is lost, and not just for now, but forever.  It feels like happiness is a lie.  It's not that it will not come back.  It can't come back.  Your every emotion screams for your life to end, or at the least for you to curl up in a ball and cease to move, for what's the point of moving?

I'll tell you how I first responded to this challenge.  Like an idiot, that's how.  I took on the problem of my emotions of death and utter hopelessness clashing with the memories of life before depression , of joy and wonder and happiness, and the need to survive for those around me, by trying to simply deny the importance of emotions in general.

"Feelings don't matter," I'd say.  So many times did I say it that my soul started to change.  A numbness came that I am still trying to fend off these couple years removed from the brunt of it.  My heart still tries to shut down at every turn.  All pain causes the walls to go up, and to my own detriment.  Walls keep out good things as well as bad.

Healthy people do it too.  This is where we get sayings like, "Love is a decision."  Takes out those pesky, unpredictable feelings and gives us a sense of control.  Only, it's a lie.  Love has a decisive quality to it, but it is much more than just a decision, and everyone knows it.  Love is scary because it is somewhat out of our control.  That's just the way it is.

On the other hand, as I said, most people feel something and take it as book.  If something feels true, we are almost helpless to believe otherwise.  The compulsion to comply with our feelings is huge.  I think this is because of the good feelings, the ones we cling to.  When we feel them, we want them to be true so badly that we feel we need to believe all our feelings.  If this feeling led me to this wonderful place, then my feelings must be true, because I want this feeling to be real, not just a fluke.

Why can't feelings be like people?  Yes, this is a metaphor.  People are real.  Some lie, and some tell the truth.  Part of life is discerning between them.  To feel the need to trust all people, at the risk of denying the reality that some people do tell the truth, is just foolish.  You'll believe any lie that comes your way.  Well, feelings are the same way.  They are all real.  But some of them lie.

In depression, your feelings are very real.  Your feelings are valid.  I am not taking away the validity of your pain.  I am simply saying that what they pain is telling you, "that you'll never be happy again, that you're lost forever, so just end it," is not true.  It just isn't.  And if you really want to fight well, you need to start internalizing this and acting on it.

One of the biggest, if not the biggest turning point in my fight against depression was when I stopped denying the existence of my emotions, started validating the reality of my pain's existence, but then rejected the message it was sending me.  It's when i realized that admitting that a feeling is real does not mean that what it is saying to me is true, that things changed.  I just said, "Okay, you're there.  The pain is real.  I'm just not going to believe what it has to say any longer.  Life is good, no matter what my feelings say.  It will be good again.  It will."  And things did change, slowly.  For a long time I felt that sense of hopelessness and had to daily reject the message.  It was one of the hardest things I've ever done, and also one of the greatest.  Hope became real, because I didn't have to wait to feel something to be true for it to actually be true to me. My feelings no longer dictated reality.  They influenced, but no longer dictated.

And here I am, and I am no longer depressed.  I was right.  My hope was well founded.  What would have happend had I believed my feelings?  I'd be dead, that's what.

This is true for everyone.  Always know that what you feel is real, and is validated.  Then, have the wherewithal to discern whether or not your feelings are lying or telling you the truth.  Rejecting the lie of depression didn't make all other feelings lies.  That's impossible.  In order for love to be real, the feelings of depression had to be a lie.  Praise God they are.  Truth is you or your loved one can feel whole again.  Love is real.  Happiness is real.  Life is good.  People love you.  You are not a burden.  This will pass.  Whether you feel it or not, God is real, and He loves you, so much so that He didn't just stay above it all, but sent His only son to be a part of it.  He saved you and me.  That's the truth, feel it or not.

May God give you the strength to accept then rise above the emotions telling you that life isn't worth living.  May you press on toward the prize, and claim it.  Amen.

Nanna's Funeral: A Testimony of Courage and Patience

We buried the body of my grandmother Doris Williams Laning this past Saturday.  It was a really beautiful weekend.  We stayed in their empty house, as Nanna had been living in an assisted care home.  She was ninety years old.  Her life was marked by enormous pain, as she came down with a very rare disease called Dystonia when she was in her thirties.  She spent the rest of her life twisted and mangled by the effects of the disease.  Yet, and I can say this earnest, without even a hint of hyperbole, that she never complained.

I am not a fan of the famous quote of St. Francis of Assisi, "Preach the Gospel at all times, and when necessary use words."  It really is a marvelous quote, but it all too often is used as an excuse to not actually share the Gospel using words, which is absolutely necessary.  Yet, in Nanna's case, the quote rings wholly true.  She could barely speak, she could barely write.  Over the years you learned how to decipher the wispy, broken speech that came from her mouth.  It was the ultimate test for your ability to piece together sentences using context clues, as you really only heard every fourth or fifth word.  Yet, so many people have been affected by her patience and courage.  She is a testimony to God given courage.  We can see a woman who suffered enormously, and without healing in this life, yet who faced each day with smiles and courage and hope.

Back in February, when my grandfather, Daddy Jake, died, I was racked with pain.  At the viewing I began to weep inconsolably at the sight of him.  I just couldn't stop.  Finally, I felt something bump into my leg.  It was the wheel of Nanna's wheelchair.  She was trying to get close to me.  She reached her frail, boney,  little hands, put them under my chin, lifted up my face, and said, "It's okay.  He's not pain anymore.  He's not in pain anymore.  It's okay."  I then held her up so that she could see him, to which she remarked how incredibly handsome of a man he was.

 We should all take notice and check ourselves when we complain, when we say it is too hard, too much to bear.  There was once a woman whose pain was greater than most, and yet it was praise for our Lord Jesus that came from her lips.  She is my grandmother, Doris "Nanna" Laning.

Philippians 4:13 "You can do all things through Christ that strengthens you." 

Empty

Saying goodbye to Daddy Jake & Nanna's house.  Daddy Jake built this house nearly fifty years ago.  Every tree you see was planted by Daddy Jake, my father, or my uncle.

My father's and uncle's hand prints in the walkway from when they were children.